


Confess

by hungrydean



Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, Mentions of Casifer, Sam Ships It, dean is a protective mother hen, jealous!Dean, past season 11
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-13
Updated: 2016-10-13
Packaged: 2018-08-22 05:54:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8275213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hungrydean/pseuds/hungrydean
Summary: Dean just really wanted to celebrate a good hunt with the two most important people in his life. But things never go as planned, and when some stranger starts hitting on Castiel, it’s hard for Dean to keep his feelings to himself.





	

**Author's Note:**

> thanks a lot to the three people for their sweet and important help <3

“Why are we leaving?” Castiel asks with honest confusion, leaning in between the driver’s and shotgun seat, his hands resting on both. 

Dean brings his gaze over to him, forgetting he is driving. His attention easily gets dragged away from the road by his brother or Cas.

“To celebrate.” He grins, looking ahead again. “We showed those assholes where they belong, huh? You killed so many in just a few seconds and well, you saw yourself how good Sammy did. Plus, it’s been ages since we’ve been out, especially the three of us together. I thought, y’know, it’d be fun.”

The excitement in his voice when he speaks of Cas and Sam is faded by the time he finishes his sentence. 

He shrugs. 

It sounds stupid when he says it like that, and part of him is afraid he’s the only one who feels this way. Like the three of them are a team, the three musketeers ready to save the day.

 

Dean is proud of the other two more than he’s ever been proud of himself. He has never been the one to express his emotions in words well, he would rather  _do_ something, like taking his brother and best friend out for a drink.

“I see.” Castiel says and relaxes into the back seat. He doesn’t sound excited, but does he ever? Dean looks in the rearview mirror for a moment. Castiel is staring outside, his eyes going back and forth at every light they pass. Dean smiles vaguely, he looks so peaceful. 

Like this, in the Impala, Dean can hardly believe the things he’s been through. He doesn’t look like a celestial being. He doesn’t look like a Leviathan either, or Jimmy Novak. Or the Devil himself. Or God. Or some high hippie who has orgies. This dark haired man is Castiel, his friend, and that is enough.

“Dean, the road.” Sam’s hand suddenly grabs his wrist. Dean startles from his thoughts and he gives a pull at the wheel so they’re on the road again. Sam looks at him as if he wants to say more, but Dean looks straight ahead, cheeks burning.  

\--

 

“I’m getting drinks,” Dean says, pointing at Sam who is about to walk over to the bar. “You two, sit. I’m paying.” He raises an eyebrow strictly, making his younger brother look at him a little confused before sliding down on one of the chairs. Castiel sinks down on the couch-like seat at the wall.

Dean taps his fingers on the bar as he waits for the three beers he ordered. He doesn’t want to get drunk, just celebrate their hunt.

 _It shouldn’t be that hard_ , he thinks,  _get three bottles out of the fridge and pop the lids. I kill demons for a living,_  he thinks with a huff.  _I have stopped a freaking apocalypse, I saved your sorry ass and you can’t even hurry up?_

He can’t see the table from here and it makes him nervous.

He isn’t afraid something will happen here, but the feeling is wrong. His task is to always look out for his brother. A few years ago, Castiel was added on his keep-safe-no-matter-what list. Now both men are out of Dean’s sight and that isn’t okay.

“There you go, hon.” A woman his age finally hands him three cold bottles and winks.

“I’m not your hon.” Dean wouldn’t be this grumpy if he didn’t stand here waiting for ten minutes. Sam and Cas are probably wondering where he is. He throws money on the bar and takes all three beers, navigating his way back in between people and furniture.

His mood doesn’t get any better when he arrives at the table. A stranger, dark wavy hair and a hint of a beard on his strong jawline has settled in the place  _Dean_  is supposed to be, next to Cas. 

His arm slung loosely over the angel’s shoulder, who looks nothing but confused. If it wasn’t such a miserable sight, Dean would think that expression was more adorable than anything he’s ever seen. But alarms go off inside his head, and the anger that has been boiling for a few minutes now reaches a climax.

“Whatcha want, huh?” Dean interrupts the soft murmuring of the stranger and slams the three beers on the dusty table. Sam startles, he was looking at the other two men seemingly amused.

“Oh, just talkin’ to dreamboat over here,” the stranger says, brown eyes lusting over Castiel’s face. He smirks. “Damn, you’re sure you haven’t visited me in my dreams?”

Castiel’s frown gets darker. “I don’t think I ever-“ 

Dean doesn’t let him finish. He grabs the stranger’s arm and pulls him on his feet, ready to push him against the wall. 

“Fuck off, you son of a bitch.” He snaps. 

Sam opens his mouth, but Dean silences him with one hand movement. 

“What if I don’t?” The other man is sizing Dean up. His tone has instantly changed, darker and meaner. 

“I’ll make you. Go, douchebag. I don’t think you wanna mess with me.” His voice has lowered to a dangerous level. He is angry, furious, he doesn’t even realize he is holding the other’s shirt until the man yanks himself free and disappears between the other people. 

“What the  _hell_  was that about?” Sam hisses as Dean flops down next to Cas. He sat down too close and now their legs are pressing together, but it’s too awkward to shift away now. 

Dean pushes the beers towards the others and grabs one himself. He doesn’t answer. He can’t. 

“He was trying to be nice.” Cas is obviously clueless about Dean’s actions. 

“He was trying to get you to suck his dick.” Dean grumbles, but feels sorry the moment he said it. He isn’t supposed to talk like this to Cas, he doesn’t want to be mean. 

“I don’t understand.” Castiel doesn’t seem to care that if they’d sit any closer, Dean would be on his lap. He is focused on Dean’s face. “Why would he want…” 

“Cas, it’s cool.” Sam interrupts and gives Dean a look. It’s mostly Dean who gives the warning glances, but Dean listens this time. He is too angry now anyways. He doesn’t want his night to be ruined by some dude trying to hit on Cas, either. 

Deep inside, he knows why he cares so much. But saying that out loud? The thought alone scares Dean off.

It takes all three a few minutes to forget about the guy, but eventually they are wrapped up in a conversation that they keep low, for the words ‘demons’, ‘hell’ and ‘possession’ aren’t words heard in a bar on a daily basis.

When Dean wants to get up for a second beer for all three, Cas is already on his feet.

“Let me.” He suggests, and for a moment his hand rests on Dean’s left shoulder. Dean looks up at him, ready to tell him to stay, but Castiel has already maneuvered in between the table and the couch and his hand slips from Dean’s shoulder. Dean watches him leave. 

“He knows how to order beer,” Sam says, and Dean wonders if he heard teasing in his voice. 

“Are you.. sure he’s okay? After Lucifer, all the crap before- I mean the dude’s energy bar must be pretty empty by now.” Dean leans in a little, frowning. It does really worry him, but he doesn’t want to talk about it while Cas was there.

He doesn’t want Castiel to think that Dean thinks he is weak because he doesn’t. He just thinks Cas deserves to wind down a little. 

Sam sighs, playing with his empty bottle.  “I don’t know, Dean. He… seems to be, but that doesn’t say he is,” he sighs again. “I think that if he isn’t, he will be. He’s smart and strong and if he really needs help… he’ll ask. He did before.” 

It’s wonderful, how Sam knows what to say, how he knows how to make Dean feel a little better. 

What makes him feel less good, though, is the fact it takes Cas quite long to get the beers. He doesn’t count minutes, but Dean keeps throwing glances at his watch. 

“I’m gonna go see if the bartender fell asleep or something, “ Dean gets up, hurrying past Sam. Castiel has at least been gone for twelve minutes now.

Reaching the bar, he scans for a trench coat, dark messy hair… When he doesn’t see Cas right away, panic begins to close his throat. His breath gets faster and despite himself, he begins to push people aside.

There, in the corner,  _god bless he is alive, safe_. 

But Dean freezes when he realizes Cas is together with the douchebag from earlier. 

Dean’s brain snaps, he forces himself past all other people and before he knows himself, his fingers are folded around the guy’s shirt again. The smirk that was on his face, in mere inches from Cas’ face, disappears.

“I told you, you don’t wanna mess with me.” Dean hisses, pushing the guy away from Cas. “I warned you-“ He lashes out, his fist meeting the other’s cheek and nose. People start to realize what’s going on, but Dean is too busy holding off a hit from the other. 

In less than ten seconds, Dean’s arms are pulled on his back by a broad, angry looking guy. The same happens to Douchebag, who tries to fight off but is dragged away towards the exit. 

“Back off,” he hisses, working his arms free from the strong grip. He holds up his hands. “No need to break my arms, I’m leaving this place anyways. C’me on.” 

Cas hasn’t moved, but for the first time in days he looks uneasy and nervous. 

“Are you okay?” Dean asks carefully. 

“Dean!” Sam is suddenly behind him and grabs him by his shoulder, throwing him an angry glance. “Did you just  _hit someone in the face?_ ” 

He shrugs, looking at Sam’s nose because he would rather not see his expression now. “Happens to the best of us, ri-“ 

“I thought you were leaving?” Rasps the chucker-out, his hand reaching for Dean’s leather jacket for the second time.

“Yeah, of course, uh- have a nice day.” Dean manages to get out and hurried outside, Sam and Cas close behind him.

\--

The ride back to the motel is painfully quiet. Dean doesn’t have the guts to open his mouth or look at either his brother or Castiel. He caught a glimpse of Cas’ expression when he got in the car and it didn’t please him. He looked sad and confused, maybe shy. He can’t place it. But it hurts. Sam does not look pleased either, but Dean can live with that for now.

Minutes of silence pass. Dean doesn’t dare to put on music either, and he isn’t in the mood for it. He was so angry at the guy, he can still feel it boiling and running through his body. 

Nobody touches Cas,  _nobody_  can look at him like that. Like he is a doll- an object to lust over. 

He can’t fool himself, though, he knows that he’s jealous. Envy and annoyance have never been a peaceful combination. Dean can’t stand seeing others being so easy and close to Castiel, while he struggles with it so much. Maybe they would be first and drag Cas away from his desperate, yet terrified hands. That isn’t even everything. 

They would hurt Castiel. They’d promise him beautiful things to lure him out of his trench coat, under the sheets. The next morning there’d be no promises. They’d hand him his trench coat and show him the door.

And oh, Castiel would be able to cope with it of course, but Dean would rather have Cas unbroken, untouched, able to believe in the promises Dean wishes to tell him.

The slamming of the Impala’s door echoes over the dark, cold parking lot of the motel and Dean locks her without looking at either Sam or Cas. They hurry towards their room and Dean can hear Sam hiss through his teeth from the cold behind him on the stairs. Once at their rooms, Sam holds Dean back from following him into the room.

“You are sleeping here.” He says, nodding to the room Dean shares with Cas. Suddenly, Cas pushes past Sam and Dean, taking the keys from Dean and entering the room without a word.

Sam looks at Dean, letting out a breath that creates a cloud in the cold air. “You’re gonna talk to him, Dean.”

“Sammy, come on, I just-“

“Owe him an apology? Owe him an explanation? I mean, I don’t even get you- I don’t even think  _you_  understand you. So you have to talk to him.” His tone is low, whispering with pressure on all of his words.

“But…” 

“Face it.” Sam says, the key of his room already in the lock, but he turns around before entering. “You know I- uh, I don’t judge right? I’m cool with it.”

Dean turns red, facing away from his brother. He doesn’t reply, but the small nod of his head says he heard. He goes inside.

Cas sits on his neatly made bed, legs folded under him. He is reading John’s journal again, something he does often when he has time to kill.

At first, Dean doesn’t say anything. He sits down on the side of his bed, facing Cas, and takes of his shoes with a huff as he slips out of them. He watches his own feet, wiggles his toes in the black socks. He’s building up courage for the thing he is worst at – talking, confessing.

“Hey Cas?” He mutters, curling his toes.

“It’s alright, Dean.” Cas answers right away. The sudden answer makes Dean look up, but Castiel is focusing on the journal.

“I-“

“Dean, it’s okay. I understand.” The angel’s voice is rougher than normal, as if he’s holding himself from talking louder. “I know you- you meant it well.”

Dean frowns.  “Of course I did,” he replies, awaiting more from Cas. He leans forward a little even though he’s still scared. He isn’t sure if Castiel has heard him or not, because he continues to talk fast and with a hint of panic.

“I know you thinking I can’t handle this all by myself is a gesture of friendship and kindness, I know it’s something that should be thanked for and I should accept. You mean it well, you’ve always thought helping others that aren’t strong enough is your job, your-“

“Hey, Cas, hey,” Dean says quickly, raising his voice. “I don’t think you can’t handle it.”

Castiel slowly looks at him. He forgot about the book in his hands and Dean forgot about his toes.

“I  _know_  you can handle it. I know you’re strong enough- hell, stronger than me and Sam together. You hear that?”

Cas tilts his head.  _Fuck,_  Dean thinks, his breath stuck in his throat for a moment,  _he has no clue, no friggin’ clue._

“I don’t understand.” Honestly confused, Cas shifts so he is facing Dean. It’s Dean’s turn to swallow and fidget with his plaid nervously. “Why would you not let me talk to him then? What’s going on?”

“Cas, I- It’s just…” He gets up in one movement and walks over to the window, opening it. He lets the cold air cool his burning cheeks, inhaling fresh air with a pounding heart.

“Dean?” He spins around when the rough voice sounds so close from behind. Cas is standing a few inches from him. He still forgets the concept or personal space sometimes.

Dean blinks, desperately looking for an escape. Something he can say to get away, to  _not_  talk about this. There’s just silence for a few moments. They stand in front of each other and stare. Castiel with his head tilted, a deep frown on his face, Dean a mix of terror and desperation.

“Tell me.” Castiel breaks the silence. Dean melts when he looks back into the gentle blue eyes that hold so much power and are yet so calm.

“Cas- I… I- I’m sorry,” he answers. He hesitates again. He doesn’t want to do this. He wants to sleep or have a Dr. Sexy marathon, but he doesn’t want to talk about feelings. Dean rakes his teeth over his bottom lip and takes a deep, deep breath.

“I… Damnit Cas, I didn’t want that douchebag to be around you, he was being a dick- he was using you and trying to make you believe that he was a nice guy. He made me so angry that I lashed out and hit him in the face, I couldn’t stand that smirk.”

Castiel doesn’t seem angry anymore. The frown is getting less strong and his eyes soften. He takes a step closer and tilts his head. Dean steps back so he’s nearly pressed against the wall.

“You were afraid.” Cas mutters, observing Dean’s face.

“Yes,” Dean admits with a sudden courage, but his voice still shakes. “I didn’t want you to… I- I need you.”

“I’m always here for you, I’ve always been.”  

Dean runs a hand through his hair. Castiel is bad at taking hints and Dean is even worse at giving them.

“If you and this guy would- y’know… I was afraid that you wouldn’t…” He licks his dry lips, “-be with… me.”

The silence is killing Dean and he hates himself for saying it. There’s a soft breeze coming from the window behind them, lightly ruffling Cas’ hair.

“Oh.” It’s more a breath than a word. “Do you mean…”

Castiel’s thumb brushes over Dean’s cheek gently and he automatically reacts, leans into it and nearly closes his eyes. Before he can realize what he’s doing, what Cas is doing, he feels rough, uncertain lips pressing against his bottom lip. 

It’s a little misplaced and messy, neither of them thought about their noses squishing together or Dean moving back against the wall, or their jaws both being unshaved and rough. They aren’t really thinking at all.   

Dean gasps as Cas lets go. They look at each other, both out of breath and scared of each other’s reactions. The silence is nearly as long as their kiss.

“Y-yeah.” Dean nods, “I meant that.”

Kissing Cas wasn’t as scary as he thought it would be. It’s easier to reach forward a second time, he forgets about Cas being an angel, about him being human.

He cups Cas’ cheeks and thinks a little more. He tilts his head and softly brushes their lips together, tender as he moves. He can see Cas frowning in concentration, eyes closed.

When he kisses back, Dean lets his eyes flutter close as well and lets his hand glide over Cas’ neck towards the back of his head, tangling his fingers into the thick, messy hair. He smiles into the kiss when Castiel makes a soft sound and hums when Cas tugs at his leather jacket, urging him closer.

They’re gentle and caring, afraid to hurt or go too far- but Dean can’t stop smiling or leaning back in after they pulled away to breathe. 

After minutes, Cas pulls away, smiling like he hasn’t done for so long. Dean realizes how much he missed that smile.

“I’m always here for you.” Castiel repeats. “You don’t have to be afraid of me leaving you.”

Dean looks back at him and huffs out a soft laugh, stepping away from the wall.

“I don’t think I’ll be afraid of that anymore.”


End file.
